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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24367681">The Siren and the Sea</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lovedmoviesb/pseuds/Lovedmoviesb'>Lovedmoviesb</a>, <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/msdoomandgloom/pseuds/msdoomandgloom'>msdoomandgloom</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Love in the Time of Richonne: A Collection of Historical AUs [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Walking Dead (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Collaboration, F/M, MerMay, Richonne - Freeform</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 10:55:12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,093</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24367681</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lovedmoviesb/pseuds/Lovedmoviesb, https://archiveofourown.org/users/msdoomandgloom/pseuds/msdoomandgloom</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Once upon a time, on a cold autumn day on a fishing boat in the middle of the sea, Rick and Michonne's worlds collide. A fisherman and a mermaid fall in love.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Rick Grimes/Michonne</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Love in the Time of Richonne: A Collection of Historical AUs [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1409305</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>25</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Siren and the Sea</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Happy Mermay! Msdoomandgloom made artwork so stunning that it demanded a story to go with it. We hope you enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p> </p><p>The morning dawned pale and cold, the sun a colorless splotch on the horizon. The waves were still, bobbing the boat so gently that the occupants scarcely felt it. The crew were asleep, a half dozen seasoned sailors worn out from a long night of manning the nets. Their snores squeaked through the crooked wooden boards of the cabin, a rhythmic sonata to match the lull of the water beneath them.</p><p>Rick stumbled outside, boots dragging against the damp deck, slogging towards the stern. He'd drawn the short straw just a few precious hours ago, necessitating that he be up to check the dredge nets. He shivered, pulling the collar of his woolen jacket tight, bundling himself in the dark fabric against the breeze dancing off the ocean.</p><p>His footsteps beat hollowly, forging a path to the winch suspended just off the stern, the tip sagging downward until it almost broke the opaque surface beneath.</p><p>"Damn," Rick muttered, sighing.</p><p>Experience told him there was no profitable fish in these waters heavy enough to nearly break that net. He was more likely to find a belligerent sea lion, or perhaps an ailing shark. The prospect of either was unpleasant. He contemplated rousing the others, but decided against it, not wanting to suffer their ire.</p><p>"Up you go," he mumbled, straining already against the crank.</p><p>Little by little, the weighted net began to rise, dripping and rippling the water beneath it. Rick glanced over, hoping for a peek at what was causing him such grief before breakfast.</p><p>The face staring back at him sent him scuttling away from the edge.</p><p>He lost his footing, collapsing in a heap, the air forced from his lungs. Shaking, he climbed back up, trying to calm himself, attempting to reason. It had to be a trick of the light, a mirage in his still foggy brain. There was no way that there was a woman staring at him from among the pile of floundering fish.</p><p>Rick repeated this to himself as he began to crank again, determined to prove himself wrong. This time her head emerged in measures: a twist of dark hair, a flash of brown skin, and two round disdainful eyes, glaring for all the world at him.</p><p>Fear at once gave way to panic and Rick finished his task as quickly as he was able, locking the winch before seizing the hook used to drag the net in. He moved carefully, gaze glued to the face pressed against the knotted rope, heart pounding against his chest.</p><p>"God," he breathed, steadying the net. It's contents splashed down towards the deck. "How did you get in there?"</p><p>The face offered no answer, but Rick wouldn't have heard it over the thrumming in his own ears. A young woman, beautiful and muscled, watched him, rearing back as though she expected an attack.</p><p>"Hold on," Rick soothed, lowering the net. His fingers fumbled with the clasp, attempting to open it. It gave way at once, fish flopping about in a pungent, briny wave, clattering in the air, struggling for life. The woman laid among them, arms wrapped around herself.</p><p>Rick dropped to his knees, gloved hands pushing net and fish alike aside. He collided with a mass of iridescence. Rick imagined that he'd laid eyes on most of the creatures of the deep that could wander into a fisherman's net, but this caught him as unaware as the woman's presence. He squinted, entranced by the kaleidoscope of color trapped in the myriad of minuscule scales. They reflected the sun, shifting and changing, glowing first silver, then an indigo deep as the sea, then violet without missing a beat. Curiously, Rick grabbed at it, attempting to move it off the lap of the lovely and quiet woman.</p><p>It moved at once, whipping up, knocking Rick back flat on his ass. He watched in shock as the tail- for that's what it was- curled upward.</p><p>"You're…" Rick stammered, mouth running dry. His mind was filled with stories, but his lips would not form the words.</p><p>The scales ended at the woman's abdomen, an expanse of smooth umber skin beginning at once, leading up to strong arms, rounded breasts, a long graceful neck, and that beguiling face still staring.</p><p>Rick gaped. He'd heard the tales, as a boy and now as a man, fairytales meant to frighten or delight. Sirens leading men to their death, mermaids saving sailors from the depths. Rick was not quite sure what the woman before him was, but it was clear that half of her at least, was not human.</p><p>She began to move back much like a beached fish, an awkward, unsteady retreat. Rick saw the reason for it at once. A chunk of metal, jagged and rough, stuck at an angle just beneath her ribs. It was a harpoon, ancient and rusted, the tip broken off and embedded into the creature in front of him. She winced, crying out. It startled Rick that the first sound from her lips to ever grace his ears was to be a moan of pain.</p><p>He was up before he could contemplate it, rushing for her again. Her eyes widened in panic, but she needn't have worried. Rick gathered her in his arms, tail and all, bearing her back towards the wheelhouse. She squirmed, fighting him, but Rick held tight.</p><p>"Whoa," he cautioned, carefully avoiding her wound. "I'm trying to help you," he grunted out.</p><p>She did not cease but her hands loosened around his forearm, her expression growing weary. Rick nudged the door open, lowering her gently down before the wheel.</p><p>"One minute," he assured her, reaching for the first aid kit. He opened it, nudging the box towards her, hoping she understood.</p><p>Her gaze fell to it then danced back up, one brow arching.</p><p>"You need help," Rick said. "Let me help. Please."</p><p>There was a long moment where Rick could hear the boat creak and groan, hear the breaths of his fellow crewman, nearly forgotten in the wake of his new discovery.</p><p>Slowly, almost imperceptibly, she nodded, her chin ducking just an inch. Rick smiled reassuringly beneath his salt and pepper beard, peeling off his work gloves and disinfecting his hands.</p><p>"This will hurt," he cautioned, sure now that she could understand.</p><p>Her chest rose suddenly, accompanied by a sharp intake of breath. Rick focused on the harpoon, deciding quickly that shoving it through would be less painful than yanking the barbed end out. He steadied her with a hand to her abdomen, noting the heat of her skin. With an inhale, he forced his other hand forward.</p><p>A sharp little cry rang from her, tightening Rick's throat. He shoved again and she gasped, but the metal was free, her blood sticky between his fingers. Gauze and a towel stemmed the bleeding. He held it in place, watching her face.</p><p>"Do you have a name?" he asked, attempting to distract her.</p><p>She looked at him, lip worried between her teeth, breathing labored. Rick wondered fleetingly whether she had gills like a fish, or breathed like a mammal. He wondered too how the wicked instrument had found its way into her, and how she'd ended up in that net. The answers seemed unlikely to come.</p><p>Cleaning the wound set her shaking, her tail trembling while her face betrayed nothing. He worked as quickly as he was able, rubbing the smooth skin of her back absently, hoping it brought her some comfort.</p><p>Rick reached for a needle, threading it steadily. "Sorry," he apologized again, plunging it in.</p><p>Her eyes watched steadily as he worked, her hand gripping at the hem of his damp woolen coat.</p><p>"There," Rick tied the end off, leaning forward to tear the thread out of the needle with his teeth.</p><p>The gesture brought him in closer contact. He paused for a moment, stunned by her scent. It was a hint of the sea, the aroma of a breeze, the way sunshine smelled on a summer day. Rick was struck at once by memories, all of them pleasant. He pulled back, swallowing hard.</p><p>"All right," he nodded, shoving the bloody gauze absentmindedly into his pocket, packing the first aid kit and returning it.</p><p>He had moments now before the rest woke up. They would wonder why their catch was scattered on the deck, why he'd abandoned his post. He doubted very much that they would observe the creature in front of him with the quiet curiosity he had.</p><p>She came more willingly into his arms this time, pushing at the door to help him.</p><p>"How do you want to do this?" he asked her, moving to the stern. "Should I just-" he gestured, lifting her as though to drop her.</p><p>She looked over, considering. The sea was still quite calm this morning, smooth as glass. The creature nodded again, pausing to look back at him.</p><p>"Well," Rick felt a sudden reluctance, but he smiled, bracing himself. "Happy trails then."</p><p>One slender hand came up, startling him. She tugged at the hair of his beard, her eyes softening. Before he could brace himself, she'd kissed him on the nose, pressing her full lips to his flushed skin. With more finesse than he could have anticipated, she dove, arching from his grasp and back into her element.</p><p>Rick leaned over, watching as her tail flicked, disappearing beneath the sea. Disappointment burned in him as acutely as her touch still seared his skin. A ripple appeared for just a moment before she emerged once more, this time looking on him with something almost like affection.</p><p>"Michonne," she said quietly, her voice lilting like a song.</p><p>"Michonne," Rick rolled the word around, tracing the syllables with his tongue. "Your name?"</p><p>She looked amused, dipping beneath the water to hide the beginnings of a smile.</p><p>"I'm Rick," he said, desperate for her to know.</p><p>"Thank you, Rick," Michonne answered.</p><p>With a whip of her tail, she was gone, leaving Rick reeling.</p><p>"Grimes!" A crewman barked, drawing him away from the stern with a start. "What in the hell happened out here?"</p><p>"A sea lion," Rick reported without missing a beat. "Got it free and it jumped over." He turned back to his work, his mind still beneath the waves with the woman who had kissed him.</p><p>-l-l-l-l-</p><p>She could hear him beneath the surface, the steady cadence of his voice now distinguishable from the rest. He had a peculiar kind of inflection, one that had been pleasant to her ears, even through her distrust.</p><p>"Rick." Michonne repeated his name, drifting lower, contemplating. He was a man unlike any she'd encountered.</p><p>Humans had glimpsed her before, flashes of her diving among the waves, or sunning herself in the shallows. She always drew their attention, their elation, their fear. Never before had she been treated so delicately, touched so gently, without lust or curiousity or greed. The last men she had seen before him had chased her, stabbing and prodding, seeking to pluck her from the sea. The harpoon had been agony, burning and weakening her until she'd collapsed, drifting with the tides. She'd awoken in a net, sure that this was the end of her.</p><p>And then there had been Rick. She doubted she would ever forget him. Even now, he did not betray her, claiming that he'd seen nothing but a sea lion, laughing with his cohorts as they began to salvage their catch.</p><p>The sea was quiet and still today, for which Michonne was thankful. She needed to recover her strength, to consider what had happened. She skirted the cool sandy bottom, settling in a bed of kelp for a long awaited nap.</p><p>She dreamed of Rick. His face, the tanned skin tinged in pink, the curl of chestnut hair beneath his cap, the rough nap of his beard, the concern in his eyes, blue as the sea on a summer day. Michonne had never given much thought to the appeal of human men, but a longing stirred within her now.</p><p>She awoke in the darkened water, feeling better in spades. The fishing vessel was long gone, leaving her to her solitude. The beams from the moon shone down, the white light filling her, healing her, calling her to the surface. Michonne emerged, blinking in the starlight, considering what to do next.</p><p>A dive to the bottom brought her handfuls of seagrass. She set about weaving them, crafting a basket of sorts. She filled it until it was sagging with clams, their smooth dark shells slippery, each closing as she touched them, unaware that they were to be a gift.</p><p>Michonne could feel him like a pulse through the tides, drawing her to the aging hull of his fishing vessel once more. She crept carefully, quietly, one hand on the boat, searching for him. He was there, still in his coat, sitting near the bow and staring out at the horizon. The sight brought a smile to her face.</p><p>"Rick," she called to him quietly, but he heard at once, perking up and looking for her.</p><p>"Michonne," he grinned, teeth glowing indigo in the moonlight. He tugged his hat from his hair, the curls a mussed tangle.</p><p>Michonne raised her basket, using her tail to steady herself. Rick reached down to meet her, his rough fingers brushing the back of her hand.</p><p>"What's this?" he asked, eyes not on the gift but on Michonne's face, his lips still quirked up in a disbelieving grin.</p><p>"A thank you," she said simply, bracing herself against the boat. Her locs pressed between her bare skin and the vessel, She freed them, tossing them over her shoulder, unobscuring her view of the man still looking at her in awe.</p><p>"You don't need to do that," he rumbled. His skin flushed, visible even in the low light. "You already gave me a kiss."</p><p>She would have very much liked to give him another, a proper one this time, but she only smiled.</p><p>"For you," she told him, releasing the basket to him and lowering herself down.</p><p>"Will I see you again?" he asked urgently, stretching forward.</p><p>Michonne nodded, blowing him a kiss. Without another word, she returned to her world, staring up at the full moon suspended above, and Rick's silhouette, holding the basket, his eyes still searching for her.</p><p>-l-l-l-l-</p><p>
  <em>"When I was a little lad</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And so my mother told me,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Way, haul away, we'll haul away, Joe!"</em>
</p><p>The raucous chorus rose up as the sailors secured the vessel, scrambling against the ominous gathering of dark clouds on the horizon. The moon, nothing more than a crescent-shaped sliver, did little in the way of providing illumination. Rick worked alongside the rest, squinting in the quickly fading light, arms burning as he tied down whatever was not attached, preparing to weather the storm.</p><p>
  <em>"That if I did not kiss the gals</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Me lips would all grow moldy.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Way, haul away, we'll haul away, Joe!"</em>
</p><p>Rick lashed down a stack of equipment, ignoring the drip of fat raindrops, pushing himself to move faster still.</p><p>
  <em>"Way, haul away, we'll haul for better weather...</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Way, haul away, we'll haul away, Joe!</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Way haul away, we'll haul away together</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Way, haul away, we'll haul away, Joe!"</em>
</p><p>The lyrics got swallowed in the sounds of the surging sea. The fishing boat rolled and dove like a cork, powerless against the tide. Rick braced himself, soaked through to the bone, watching the world grow gray and deadly, a massive, swirling threat.</p><p>He was bare beneath his coat, his trousers hastily drawn up. Just minutes ago he was roused roughly from sleep by the warning bell. Now Rick's toes pressed into the flooded deck, attempting to cling in place, to stop the wild rocking beneath him.</p><p>Rick's mind wandered, as it often did these days, to Michonne beneath the sea. Their gift exchange had become a game of sorts, trading coins for shells, seaglass, apples: treasures from two worlds passed between them in Michonne's basket. Most mornings he found it attached to the bottom of the dredge net. He filled it again before lowering it, only to find a new gift the following morning. Delightful though this was, he had not laid eyes on the beautiful woman in weeks. He missed the sight of her immensely.</p><p>Rick reached into his pocket, tracing the string of shells and pearls he kept with him. He'd threaded them carefully, squinting in his bunk by the light of a lantern, fashioning them into a necklace. He'd planned to gift it back to her once it was finished. He doubted he'd get the chance now.</p><p>The ship lurched, rolling so violently that it nearly capsized, taking on water by the gallon. Rick dug his fingers in, eyes stinging, praying for the end to at least come swiftly.</p><p>The fishing vessel did not survive the next mighty wave. Lightning rent the sky as the ocean lifted the ship, dropping it unceremoniously into the torrid waters. Rick could hear the screams of the crew, interspersed with pleas and tears. They all yielded to the power of the elements, being sucked down into the watery depths.</p><p>His lungs burned as he fought, his woolen coat a hindrance, dragging Rick like a noose about his neck. He couldn't tell up from down, only watching through foggy eyes as the dark outline of the ship he'd once called home sank quicker than he could have anticipated. The world was a whirl of sensation, all of it painful.</p><p>Down, down, down he went, awareness slipping, a blessing considering the pressure in his lungs. Rick shut his eyes, reaching into his pocket, fingers clasping around the gift he had not gotten to give.</p><p>The world began to go dark as a tomb when something seized him urgently, jerking him almost violently. Like a rocket, he began to jet upwards, his arms wiggling feebly as the coat was torn away, the necklace still clasped in his fist. Rick looked around, but needn't have worried. Strong hands bore him up until he broke the surface, lungs soggy and gasping for air.</p><p>"Shh," a melodic voice soothed, hands drawing him closer, sheltering him. "I have you."</p><p>"Michonne," the word hurt to speak but the relief was palpable. He could not make out her face in the darkness, but he felt her warm skin against his.</p><p>"Rick," she curled her tail beneath them, steering them away from the carnage. "I'm here."</p><p>She draped her hair over him, tilting his head forward against her shoulder. Rick allowed his body to relax, clinging to her, safe at last.</p><p>She bore them off, away towards the shore as the rain beat down around them.</p><p>-l-l-l-l-</p><p>The sea was abuzz. Michonne paused her work in her cave, peering outside at the swirling tides. A storm was brewing above, that was undeniable, wresting control of the tides from the heavens. So close to a new moon, her watery world was already unpredictable. By all rights, she should secure herself inside as planned, and wait out the danger.</p><p>Far above her, lightning rent the sky, a flash of white-light branching off like a harbinger of death. She'd been to the surface just this morning, delighted to find a handful of human coins in the basket. She'd left Rick shells, eager at the prospect of seeing him.</p><p>Thunder shook even the seas, widening Michonne's eyes. She'd watched many ships lose battles with hurricanes, vessels far grander than the modest fishing boat. A second bolt stretching across the sky erased any doubt left. She tore away from her cave, battling the rushing waters, heading for Rick.</p><p>As she swam, Michonne felt Rick's panic as acutely as though she was experiencing it herself, his anguish echoing within her own heart. The waves curled and thrashed, bound by the cruel winds above, making every stroke a fight. She blinked in the cloudy water, pausing to look. The boat's anchor was still buried in the sand, the chain spinning about uselessly, detached. Fearful now, Michonne looked up, crying out at what she saw. All around was debris, panic, bodies. Michonne searched wildly for the sight of Rick's dark jacket. When she spotted it, she dove immediately, heart pounding, desperate to save him.</p><p>Now he was cold in her arms, shivering in his sleep, his face rested in the nook of her shoulder. Michonne held Rick carefully, moving as fast as she was able, her muscles aching. The water grew warmer now as she neared the shallows with the last of her strength, tail dragging in the pebbled sand.</p><p>"Rick," she shook him gently, leaning heavily against his prone form. She could scarcely see his face, but she traced the features with one finger, committing it to memory. "Wake up," she whispered in his ear, pressing her lips to his cool skin.</p><p>He complied, blinking wildly in the dark for a moment. "Where are we?" he asked, voice raspy.</p><p>"I need help," Michonne strained, hands scraping at the sand beneath them.</p><p>Rick gained his bearings quickly. He pulled her upward, his legs working to drag them. Michonne wrapped her arms around his neck, curling her tail up to aid him. They collapsed in a heap a few feet from the waterline.</p><p>Rick's heart beat against hers, a steady, frantic flutter. His palms spanned the expanse of her back, holding her close.</p><p>"Thank you," his whisper broke around the words, his head lulling back.</p><p>Michonne cradled him, shielding him from the elements. Rick's arms held her in place, clinging like she was a lifeline. His steady breaths ruffled her hair as he fell swiftly into sleep, content and safe.</p><p>She laid her head down on his shoulder, allowing herself to relax, and joined him in slumber.</p><p>-l-l-l-l-</p><p>It was a curious sensation to wake up, half-dressed, still damp, lying in the wet sand with a mermaid atop him. Rick found he didn't mind it at all. The sun dawned bright red, creeping over the beach, throwing shadows on the desolation left behind by the storm. The ocean beyond was still and calm, bobbing debris in inch by inch. Rick gave it all a cursory glance, settling his eyes on Michonne.</p><p>She was asleep, her steady breaths ruffling his hair, her cheek pressed flush to his bare chest, her locs fanned out like a curtain around them both. Her dark tresses were adorned, a complex arrayment of trinkets fashioned expertly. Unable to resist, Rick reached out to trace it, recognizing shells and pearls similar to the gifts she'd left for him. The strand was still in his hand, twisted between his fingers, the only remnant he had of his life aboard the fishing boat.</p><p>A cocktail of emotion flooded him—grief, relief, fear, but above all, gratitude. Rick leaned forward, brushing his mouth against her cheek, holding her closer still. She smiled, turning her face into him.</p><p>"You're alive," her words tickled.</p><p>"Thanks to you," He tugged lightly at her hair.</p><p>Michonne sat up, returning the gesture, threading her fingers in his beard. She leaned her forehead against his, her headband scraping lightly.</p><p>"You know," Rick began, "I was making you a necklace. Looks like you're better at it than me." He drew his hand around her, flattening his palm to show her.</p><p>She laughed, reaching for it, holding it up in wonder. "These were for you," she chided lightly.</p><p>"I want to see them on you," the confession slipped from his mouth.</p><p>Michonne looked at him, her gaze threatening to make his insides molten. "I will show you how," she promised.</p><p>"You're sticking around?" he asked, hopeful.</p><p>She looked wistful. "Not today," she said regretfully. She paused for a moment, her eyes dropping bashfully. "I could come tonight."</p><p>Rick's heart began to race, a sudden awareness of his body sharpening. "Tonight?" he asked, sure somehow that he was dreaming.</p><p>Michonne coaxed the string of pearls and shells back into his hand, dipping her head to brush her lips across his rough skin. "Rest now," she instructed. "I will see you soon."</p><p>Rick sat up, drawing her face to his, overcome. He intended to only kiss her forehead, but Michonne had other designs. Her mouth pressed to his, a gentle gesture, sealing her promise.</p><p>"Tonight," she whispered, pulling back from him. She ducked under the water and was gone again, just a flash of color in the rising sun.</p><p>"You there!" someone was shouting from afar, rushing towards him. "Are you alright?"</p><p>Rick turned reluctantly from the sea, watching as a grizzled old man ran from the lighthouse perched on the beach's edge, looking at him as though he was a ghost.</p><p>"God," the man exclaimed as he drew closer, seeing the state of him. "You must have a guardian angel, lad." He extended a chapped hand.</p><p>Rick took it, struggling to his feet. "I think I do," he agreed, happy to accept the help.</p><p>-l-l-l-l-</p><p>The tides receded, pulled out by the siren call of the moon, invisible in the night sky. Michonne lay in wait, fussing with the ornate jewelry gracing her neck, steadying herself. She had never before taken advantage of a new moon, never harbored a desire to see the land beyond her world. Not until now.</p><p>She'd kept a close eye on Rick as she recovered her strength in her own element, observing as he came under the care of a wizened lighthouse keeper. He would be safe enough there, at least for the time being. While her worry receded, a different kind of anxiety troubled Michonne's mind. She was not the first merperson to fall for a human up above, and she doubted she would be the last. Still, the idea of the future weighed heavily on her. There was excitement, yes, but also the unknown. Rick's boat was long gone, and with it, his means of staying close to her. He would be well within rights to return to a town, leaving her behind with the shipwreck at the bottom.</p><p>The waves fell now to her waist, leaving her exposed. Michonne traced the place where her scales began and felt only smooth skin. Unsteadily, she rose to her feet, legs trembling like a newborn fawn. She marveled at them, but only for a moment. Time was precious tonight, and she had intentions for every moment of it. If this was to be the end, she would be certain that they both remembered it fondly.</p><p>Her toes left prints in the sand as she walked through the low surf, heading in the twilight for the lighthouse perched at the edge of the beach. She felt ungainly, awkward, but she found a rhythm, moving with single-minded purpose.</p><p>Rick was standing not far off, staring out at the sea. He spotted her as she drew near, his eyes going wide.</p><p>"Michonne," her name was a gasp. "How-"</p><p>She paused in front of him, resting her hands on her hips, watching as his eyes drank her in like a man parched. His mouth fell open, lips parted, chest heaving. Heat rushed through her veins, pooling between her new limbs, setting her trembling. She stepped unsteadily towards him. Rick met her halfway.</p><p>"You can't be out here like this," his voice was thick with something Michonne instantly recognized even beneath the hint of amusement. It quickened her pulse, erasing the fear.</p><p>Rick put himself between her bare body and anyone who might see, shrugging out of his brown woolen jacket to drape it over his shoulders. His hands lingered on her body, just the barest of touches against the rough fabric of the coat.</p><p>Michonne reached for him, tugging at his thin cotton shirt, drawing him closer to her. The cool air was a welcome reprieve from the searing heat between them. Rick's arms closed in on her at last, pulling her into an embrace.</p><p>"You're so beautiful," the compliment was half a whisper, his breath catching. The curls of his beard tickled the side of her face as he leaned in.</p><p>She thought much the same about Rick. The sun was setting rapidly behind her, the last of the daylight disappearing beneath the horizon. Michonne seized the opportunity to view him up close, counting the freckles dusting his nose, the curve of his lips, the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled. He drew in a shaky breath, his hands tightening around her waist before quickly releasing.</p><p>"Your legs," he began, "how?"</p><p>"It's only for the night. New moon magic," Michonne tried for the simplest explanation she could. There might be time for Rick to learn her ways, and her his, but she had no designs to study them tonight.</p><p>He accepted this, nodding. "Is this your first time on land?" he asked quietly, smoothing his palm through her locs.</p><p>"Yes," Michonne moved closer still towards him, desperate for contact. The heat flared again, stoked by his wandering hands.</p><p>Rick pulled back a step, smiling gently, an idea sparkling just behind his eyes.</p><p>"Come on," he suggested. "I want to show you something."</p><p>Steadying her, he walked them towards the lighthouse. Sensation flooded her body, the feel of Rick's calloused palm, the sand between her toes, the way the wind danced up her legs. With it came a sense of contentment like none before.</p><p>"The old man," Rick began, his voice steady. "He offered me a place here, keeping the light." He wet his lips, casting his eyes anxiously at her, measuring her reaction.</p><p>She suspected as much. The idea of Rick beside the sea thrilled her, though she considered tempering her excitement. "Will you stay?" she asked cautiously.</p><p>His smile widened at her question. He released her hand, swinging his arm around her hips. "I don't think I could go far," he observed, his eyes not on the waves, but on Michonne. "Especially now."</p><p>Her expression mirrored his, both of them flushing as they reached the lighthouse.</p><p>"Is that so?" Michonne asked, her free hand worrying at her necklace.</p><p>Rick's gaze followed the motion, dropping for a moment before flicking back up. He focused on the door in front of them instead, holding it open for her.</p><p>"There's some advantages for sure," he quipped, helping her inside. "You should see the view."</p><p>Round and round they went, Rick guiding her, shouldering her weight as Michonne's bare feet walked along the cool cement.</p><p>"Almost there," he assured her, lifting her the last few stairs.</p><p>They emerged in a circular room shrouded in glass, a glowing lantern in the center. Michonne gaped, reaching out for it.</p><p>"It's hot," she held her palm near it in wonder.</p><p>Rick only watched, smiling. "That's not the best part," he told her, pointing at a small door.</p><p>They emerged on a narrow metal balcony. There was barely enough room to move, but Michonne did not mind. Rick held her close, embracing her from behind, turning her to look out at the horizon beyond.</p><p>"I've never seen it like this," she gaped, taking it all in. Her world, marvelous from beneath the waves, was a sparkling oasis at a bird's eye view, a canvas in which all the stars in the heavens were reflected.</p><p>"Do you like it?" Rick questioned eagerly.</p><p>"I do," Michonne said. Beautiful as it was, there was only one sight she yearned to look on tonight. She turned, coming face to face with Rick again.</p><p>Rick's mouth was on her's at once, urgent and demanding. Her breath caught and he seized the opportunity, pulling her closer still. She steadied herself, wrapping her arms around his neck, enjoying his rough hands on her hips, the softness of his lips, the groans slipping from his throat as they traded air between them.</p><p>Her legs, still so new to this world, grew weak and she began to fall, but Rick caught her, holding her against him.</p><p>"I've got you," he promised her, kissing her again.</p><p>-l-l-l-l-</p><p>Rick had taken the long stairs down as quickly as he dared, half-carrying Michonne. He'd held her before, but never had the act cost him so much in self-control, or threatened to leave him so dumbstricken. He'd supposed that he'd become accustomed to her beauty, but tonight Michonne proved him wrong. The sight of her naked, still dripping from her walk from the sea, would echo in his mind until the day he died.</p><p>The distance to the watchhouse seemed infinite, but they made it to the door, cracking it open.</p><p>"Hello?" he called, some logical scrap of his brain remembering to not intrude on the hospitality of the elderly and kind lighthouse keeper.</p><p>"He left a note," Michonne spotted the piece of paper first, held down by an aging lantern.</p><p>Rick lit the wick, leaning in to read the crooked sprawl. "Saw the lass. Thought you might like some privacy," he read outloud.</p><p>A chuckle rumbled in his chest, but Rick's humor quickly evaporated when Michonne laid a palm on his back. He turned to her, mouth running dry at the look in her wide dark eyes.</p><p>"We are alone then?" she asked, her voice low, her hand tightening on his shoulder.</p><p>Rick turned. "We're alone."</p><p>Michonne took a step back from him, sweeping her hair up into one hand as she tugged it loose from the coat. Rick reached for her, loath to have an inch between them, but froze as she shimmied. The heavy brown jacket, on loan from the now completely forgotten lighthouse keeper, fluttered to the floor.</p><p>When she'd emerged from the ocean, Rick had done his best to avert his eyes, trying to maintain his tenuous grasp on chivalry. Here in the dark of the watchhouse, he drank her in from head to toe. The flame from the lantern threw shadows and light across Michonne, dancing in patterns down her skin like gold. It caught her necklace, glinting and shimmering. Her locs, streaked with bronze in the rays of the sun, were ebon at night, hanging to her waist. They did little to disguise the rest of her. When they met, she'd shirked from him, hiding herself. Now she stood proud, chin up.</p><p>His heart caught in his chest, a thrumming pounding in his ears. His limbs felt heavy, his feet like lead. Michonne was all that he loved about the sea: the waves, the shore, the sand, the breeze. He longed to tell her but the words died in his throat. He could only manage one question, barely more than a rumble, his throat dry.</p><p>"Are you sure?" Rick asked thickly, swallowing the heat rising in him.</p><p>Michonne nodded, resting her hands on her shoulders. She reached behind her, removing the necklace, the last barrier between them. Without taking her gaze off of Rick, she laid it on the table beside the lantern.</p><p>"I'm sure," she told him, smiling.</p><p>Rick was on her at once, tugging her into his arms. She came willingly, giggling, grasping at him. Her laughter transformed when Rick cupped her round ass in both palms, squeezing harder than he intended. Her delighted gasp and little moan surprised him, but not nearly as much as her hand creeping down to the hem of his pants, tugging frantically.</p><p>"I want to see you," Michonne begged, a note of desperation in her voice.</p><p>Rick indulged her at once, releasing her to fiddle with the buttons. Her nimble fingers joined his, working them open and yanking them down. He left her to her task, reaching for the hem of his shirt to pull it up and over his head. When he was as bare as she, Rick stood still, trembling as Michonne inspected him. She took him in, trailing her hands down, past raised hills of scar tissue, freckles and light brown hair.</p><p>"Good?" he asked, nervous.</p><p>"Very," Michonne answered, a hungry expression growing on her lovely face.</p><p>Pride spiked white hot in his chest. Rick pulled her towards him, skin on skin, his hands spanning her waist before he moved them lower. She sighed, lulling against him. He stroked her, marveling at the softness of her.</p><p>"That feels nice," she murmured, keening. Rick grinned, continuing his exploration. When he found his way between her thighs, she began to writhe outright. "Oh," her mouth fell open.</p><p>Rick kissed her, delighting as she clung tighter to him. "I've got you," he promised, lifting her, bearing her towards the bed in the corner. He laid her down as gently as he could, hovering over to watch her.</p><p>He wasn't sure what force made this possible, what magic had chosen him, saved him for this moment. He wasn't sure it even mattered now. Michonne was beneath him, staring up at him. For the first time since Rick laid eyes on her, she looked somewhat uncertain.</p><p>"Rick," she called his name, trembling beneath him.</p><p>"Are you ok?" he asked, pausing. He lifted his body off of hers, giving her space.</p><p>Michonne rolled back into him immediately, pulling him down towards her. "I am," she assured him in a steady voice. She reached up, stroking his hair. "This is all new," she reminded him, curling her legs around his waist.</p><p>Rick found himself nodding. "It is," he agreed.</p><p>He'd been with women before, even loved a time or two. This, whatever it was, eclipsed all of his meager experience with romance. Rick began again, trailing his hands up, stroking her until her breathing became fragmented. Her hips wound a steady rhythm against his fingers.</p><p>"Good?" he asked, pressing his lips to her neck, trailing sucking kisses everywhere he could reach.</p><p>"Yes," she gasped, giggling. Her legs tightened around him, drawing him to her, the heat of her like a siren's call. She pushed his hand aside, reaching for him, grasping him surely.</p><p>There was a world of sensation he longed to show her, each option as tempting as the next, but Michonne was growing impatient beneath him. Rick obliged her by bending to kiss her soundly. He thrust forward, watching the shock and pleasure play out on her face.</p><p>He could feel her trembling, but he knew he was shaking too, the shared sensation threatening to blind them both to anything but the pleasure at hand. Rick happily tumbled into it, listening as Michonne moaned and panted, rolling her hips like the waves of their beloved sea, meeting him stroke for stroke.</p><p>"Rick," his name was a ragged whisper. Her eyes snapped shut, her face contorting as she chased her pleasure. Her hands found the curls of his hair, tugging him down. Rick went willingly, breathing her in.</p><p>He hiked her legs higher, doubling his efforts, moaning when she rewarded him by clenching tighter still.</p><p>"Michonne," it was the only word he could think to say, the only one that mattered now.</p><p>She smiled, resplendent in the lantern light. "I'm here," she answered, leaning up to kiss him.</p><p>-l-l-l-l-</p><p>Michonne was sore in the most pleasant of ways, her body humming. She exhaled, content and exhausted. Outside, beyond the beach and beneath the tides, she could feel the pull of home, the order to return coursing through her veins. She felt an acute pang of sadness. There were women in this world who fell asleep in the arms of their lovers every night, who enjoyed the warmth of being naked in bed and the dull, loving ache that followed.</p><p>"Don't do that,' Rick chided, stretching beneath her.</p><p>"Do what?" she craned her neck to look up at him. He was disheveled, his hair a whirlwind, his beard sticking out at odd angles. He possessed an endearing quality, unguarded, relaxed, and just as content as she.</p><p>Rick brushed her locs aside, pressing his fingers to the lines that creased her forehead. "Don't worry," he said. "Whatever it is."</p><p>"And how would you know I'm worrying?" She kissed his chest.</p><p>"I just know," he murmured, rolling over.</p><p>His body covered hers, a comforting weight and warmth. She began to relax as Rick's hands ran over her legs, curving over the swell of her ass before smoothing out on her lower back. His mouth found her skin again, pressing nipping kisses. She enjoyed the novelty of him on top of her, between the legs that were fading fast.</p><p>"Rick," she called her lover's name, her voice hoarse from doing much the same for hours on end.</p><p>He paused, laying his head against her back. "It's time?" he guessed.</p><p>"It is," she said regretfully.</p><p>She could sense his sadness, but he did not give it a voice. Instead, he kissed her shoulder, pushing himself up from the mattress.</p><p>"Then we better get you back," he said simply, smiling at her.</p><p>Rick helped her stand, turning her to clasp the necklace back around her, tugging her locs to one side to aid him in his work. He ran his finger over the shells, pausing at the coins he'd given her, recognizing them at last.</p><p>"We think alike," he observed, chuckling.</p><p>Michonne turned, cupping his face between her hands. "We do," she told him, kissing him soundly.</p><p>He gathered her in his arms, wrapping her in the jacket as he carried her outside and back to the surf. The horizon was growing bright with the promise of sunshine, the calm after the storm.</p><p>"I'll see you soon?" he asked, his voice hopeful.</p><p>Michonne smiled, dipping the toes that were quickly becoming fins back into the water. "A lighthouse keeper sees all kinds of things," she observed, working to keep the longing from her voice.</p><p>The thought of a future together, of what they could teach one another, eased the sting of leaving him now. She leaned up for one last embrace, kissing him sweetly.</p><p>"Soon?" Rick repeated. His hands tightened around her, much the way they did when he first delivered her to the sea after rescuing her.</p><p>"Soon," Michonne assured him, pressing her lips to the bridge of his nose. "Rest. Heal. I will be back."</p><p>The water surged around their feet. Michonne slipped from the coat and Rick's arms back into her element. He watched, eyes full of wonder.</p><p>"Until next time, Michonne," Rick called to her, straightening up again.</p><p>Michonne dove. Her body returned to its true form at once, rejoicing to be home. Still, the low ache lingered, reminding her that it would be another month before she could walk on land. She looked back up at the surface, watching Rick's face, warmed by the expression of adoration as he watched her. She would see him soon, of that she was certain.</p><p>She swam away leisurely, regaining her strength. Seagrass stretched out from the sandy bottom of the shallows, reaching for the heavens. Michonne gathered it, settling in the underwater field to begin weaving another basket. This one would need to be sturdy, to hold up to the task of moving daily between their two worlds.</p><p>With a smile, Michonne bent to her work.</p><p>-l-l-l-l-</p><p>It was a cloudless indigo night, the stars shining bright above, unhindered by the absence of the moon. Rick hadn't given the heavens more than a cursory glance despite their resplendence. The whole of his focus was on the woman in front of him.</p><p>A breeze danced off the waters, cooling the humid summer air. Rick held Michonne closer, his thumb tracing a small raised scar at her waist. The thin fabric of her dress did little to shield her from his touch. It clung to her like a second skin, spun silver threaded with gold, the hem dragging in the sand beneath them. Rick gathered it in a fist, aiding her as she walked beside him. Michonne took steady steps, keeping pace with him, her skin still dewey from the sea.</p><p>"Beautiful night for it," the lighthouse keeper observed, watching them as they approached.</p><p>Michonne smiled, turning toward Rick, beaming at him. He knew his face was similarly split, his cheeks stinging from the wideness of his grin. He could make out the contours of her features through the lace of her veil, her wide dark eyes staring at him like he was the only thing in the world that mattered. He longed to lift it off of her, to kiss her until she gasped and melted in his arms. There would be time enough for that later.</p><p>"You have the rings?" the lighthouse keeper asked again, indulging them for a moment before losing patience.</p><p>Rick nodded, taking his place beneath the beam of light from above, holding Michonne's hands in his own as she faced him.</p><p>It was a quick ceremony, unfussed, with none of the poetry or airs that some might have been accustomed to. That was the reality of life near the sea, and neither Rick nor Michonne minded. Whether they stood in a grand cathedral or between their two worlds, the result was the same.</p><p>His new gold band sat snuggly on his left-hand ring finger, mirroring its twin on Michonne's hand. Rick bent to kiss it, pulling Michonne closer to him. Her fingers tightened around his, her toes brushing his bare feet in the sand.</p><p>"Then it's done," the lighthouse keeper announced with a grizzled chuckle. "I suppose you ought to kiss. Make it official."</p><p>Rick was in motion already, reluctantly releasing Michonne's hands to reach for her veil. He lifted it, breath catching at the way the starlight played on her face. She leaned up for him and he met her halfway, kissing one another soundly.</p><p>When Rick hefted his wife into his arms, unable to resist cupping her ass firmly through her dress, the lighthouse keeper spoke up again.</p><p>"Alright, alright," he snorted, shutting his weather-worn Bible. "Give me a moment to leave, at least."</p><p>Rick pulled back, flushed, dizzily lowering Michonne back to the sand. She steading him, staying close, even as she turned fond eyes on his former employer.</p><p>"Dale," Rick began, turning towards the man.</p><p>Dale held up a hand in response. "No need to waste the words. This is yours now." He swept a palm to the lighthouse and the watchhouse beside it, looking at them fondly for a moment. He sighed, grinning crookedly. "Take care of it," he instructed. "And each other."</p><p>"We will," Michonne vowed, tugging lightly at Dale's beard until the old man blushed.</p><p>"Save that for your husband," he grumbled, all faux bad humor. Still, he offered her a small smile.</p><p>He was gone as suddenly as he'd arrived a year ago, off to enjoy his retirement in peace. Rick stood with Michonne, clinging to her hand, staring up at the home that now belonged to them.</p><p>"Rick," Michonne called his name.</p><p>He turned to look at her, in awe that she was here, that she remained by his side. Day after day she returned, sitting with him in the shallows, conversing and laughing, watching him as he worked and assisting where she could. When work left him the energy, Rick would take to the sea with her, diving as she giggled, delighted to have him in her element. It was a life he could never have imagined for himself, and one he had no intention of running from.</p><p>There were easier paths to take for the both of them, of that he was sure. Still, he woke everyday eager for a glimpse of her beneath the waves waiting for him. It was the great fortune of a lighthouse keeper's acolyte to stay close to the sea. And on nights like this, when the moon retreated and took the tides with her, they could be truly together.</p><p>"Michonne," Rick tugged lightly at her locs, trailing his hand down towards the ornate jewelry draped over her neck. It had taken them the better part of a year to finish the necklace, a delicate collection of both of their worlds, woven together into something beautiful.</p><p>"Are you ready, husband?" Michonne prompted gently, aware as she always was of the limited time beneath a new moon.</p><p>"Call me that again," Rick grinned, sweeping her off her feet.</p><p>"Husband?" she asked innocently, draping her arms around his neck.</p><p>"Yes," he chuckled, carrying her towards the watchhouse, newly painted and ready for the road ahead.</p><p>"My husband," Michonne's voice dropped, the low, loving tone she took whenever they were alone.</p><p>Rick pushed the door open, bearing her inside. He leaned down to kiss her, holding her close.</p><p>"I like the sound of that," he muttered against his wife's lips, kicking the door shut behind them as Michonne laughed.</p>
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